


The Incredible True Story of Two Witches in Love

by RubydeBrazier



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 17:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubydeBrazier/pseuds/RubydeBrazier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny wants to cast a love spell on Harry, but when it accidentally hits Hermione instead what can two girls do? Sapphic slash, six seconds of Snape and no potatoes!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is intended only as praise or parody of the original, no money is being made.

The Ministry had been reluctant to give Hermione the Time-Turner during her senior year. It had taken a summer's worth of begging that this was her last year and she would never again have an opportunity to formally study these subjects to convince Professor McGonagall to intervene on Hermione's behalf. 

Finally, they allowed her to take one, but with spells on it which would only allow it to be turned over once. This left Hermione just a little under five minutes to run from class to class, which was usually enough. Harry had bought her a self-filing notepaper pad which apparated each finished page into a file in her room, so she only had to take notes in one book. Two minutes before the bell rang, she would put away all her books but the notebook, get out her books for the next class and thread her arm through one strap of her backpack so that she would be ready to run to the next class the instant she heard the bell. The only problems arose on running from Advanced Astronomy to Care of Magical Creatures, which was both down the tower and all the way across campus. 

So it was that on Tuesday morning at 10:53am that Hermione Granger was running full speed down the corridor outside the Potions laboratory, her trainers skidding on the worn stone, her heavy bookbag jostling against her back, her long hair and grey pleated skirt belling out behind her and the leather bound textbook clutched against her chest. 

"Please don't be late," she chanted to herself as she ran down the corridor, around a corner and straight into Ginny Weasley. 

Ginny had been emerging from the Potions lab, carefully carrying a mortar bowl full of fine white powder. Intent on her burden she had not seen Hermione at all. As the two of them collided, the book skidded into the wall and the mortar bowl upturned and shattered on the floor. 

"Ginny, are you all right?" asked Hermione. Ginny looked horrified. They were sprawled across the corridor in a bruised and mussed heap of books and shattered ceramic, entirely covered in white powder. 

"Oh, Ginny, you're cut, "said Hermione, turning Ginny's chin gently in her hand to examine a small scrape on her cheek. 

"Oh, no," said Ginny softly. "Oh, no." 

Professor Snape appeared in the corridor, his thin lips curled into a sneer. He stood over them, making no effort to help either of them up. From where they lay on the floor, he looked about ten feet tall. 

"Miss Weasley, I assume this used to be your homework?" Snape said softly, emphasizing the words "used to be". It was not actually a question. 

"It's my fault, Professor Snape," said Hermione, "I bumped into her and...." 

"You must have been running," said Snape, "to have bumped into her here. Ten points will be taken from Gryffindor for running in the halls. Miss Weasley," he said, turning his sour gaze on Ginny, "fifteen points will be taken from Gryffindor for your missing homework." The bell rang loudly in the empty corridor. Snape cocked his greasy head to one side, and listened to it ring. "And now I believe you are both," he paused for dramatic effect, "tardy. Five points each will be taken from Gryffindor for being tardy." With a slightly self-satisfied look, Snape folded his arms across his chest and strode back into the classroom. 

"What was that powder?" Hermione asked when she had cleaned and healed both of them. 

"P...p...pepperup powder," stuttered Ginny. 

"Good, now I won't catch cold," said Hermione with a reassuring smile, but Ginny ran into the lecture without a word. "At least I know Hagrid won't take points," she sighed and ran off toward the stairs. 

\----- 

All through her next classes Hermione couldn't stop thinking about Ginny. "I hope she's all right," she mused, idly putting potting soil onto the table instead of into the planter in Advanced Herbology. 

"Pay attention, Miss Granger," said McGonagall in Human Transfiguration as Goyle's lumpy nose exploded into freckles. In History of Magical Warfare class she began to wonder if there was something wrong with her. She had made so many mistakes that day, she thought, as she slid into the desk behind Harry and Ron. She had taken the class mostly to be with them, since it was the only elective they had both signed up for and most of the required classes which they would have had together she had already taken. She placed her textbook on the desk next to her notepad. Professor Binns began diagramming self loading magefire catapults on the board. 

Hermione stared at the back of Ron's head. His hair was almost as mussed as Harry's, she thought fondly. The place where the stray strands brushed the top of his neck seemed exposed and vulnerable, almost innocent. Hermione felt a sudden longing to brush those strands away and kiss the back of his neck. She imagined the way his warm smooth skin would feel against her lips. She had never really noticed before how much Ron looked like Ginny. He had the same red hair and golden highlights, which looked somehow gaudy and expensive even though they were natural. It was as if Weasleys were born with ruby encrusted crowns on their heads. His skin was the same colour with its scattered constellations of freckles. She felt a desire to put her hands on him, to run her fingers through his messy hair and..... 

Ron turned around with a quizzical look. 

"Are you all right?" he whispered. 

"Ah .....well, fine, yes. Why?" asked Hermione. 

"You were making little noises, like something was hurting you," said Ron. 

"Fine," Hermione insisted. 

What was wrong with her, she wondered. Fantasizing about Harry in History class was one thing, but fantasizing about Ron was another. She usually thought Ron's head from the back looked like the House Cup, with enormous ears for trophy handles. "Could it be a love spell? But who would have cast it, and why? Not Ron, as he would never do something like that, not even as a prank. This is just like that dream I had," she thought, " where Voldemort kidnapped Harry and Ron and made them take off all their clothes while he glided around the room on roller-skates singing, 'I've got a brand new pair of roller-skates, you've got a brand new key.' I'm never eating an entire bag of Every Flavour Beans before going to bed again," she thought, and tried to pay attention. 

\----- 

Ginny ran out of Potions and down the hallway to the Prefects' bathroom. "Perfect record," she said to the door, stepping through and locking it behind her. She needed to be alone, to think. Everything had gone wrong, everything! She slid down the marble wall and covered her face with her hands. "Why did Hermione have to come around that corner at that moment? Why was Hermione always around?" She thought of Harry and felt the familiar butterflies that had been there ever since she had heard stories about him as a child. She had always assumed back then that he was the same age as her, since her parents always described him as "about your age", and then he had turned out to be one year older. "Why should one year make such a difference?" she thought angrily, and hot tears sprang to her eyes. 

She had wanted to go to Hogwarts that year so badly, but she had to wait, and one year had been enough. It was long enough for him never to be in a single one of her classes, long enough for him never to hang around with her, even though she was Ron's sister, and it was long enough for him to meet Hermione. She had always hated Hermione for that, and now she was going to have to love her. 

Ginny could feel the powder working the minute she had seen Hermione's face in the corridor asking if she were all right. The powder she had spent so many hours hiding and preparing covered Hermione's hair and clothes like icing on a chocolate cauldron cake. Her brown eyes didn't sparkle. In fact they didn't look striking at all until Ginny looked into them and saw in their depths that quiet composure which never left Hermione; and something else, tenderness, which Ginny had not noticed before. Hermione had been on her hands and knees and Ginny realized she could see down the front of Hermione's shirt to her cleavage. Her bra was white cotton with little blue flowers. Ginny recognised it from the Vivian's Secret window last fall. She found herself wondering if Hermione had the panties to match. 

"Stop it!" she told herself, but it was too late. She had been having these thoughts all throughout Potions and it had been all she could do not to burst into tears in the middle of class. The powder had no antidote. She had made sure of that. There was only one way to get it to wear off, but how could she ever persuade Hermione to do THAT? What if Hermione went to Dumbledore? "I could be expelled," Ginny thought, and felt numb with shock at how badly things had gone wrong. When she had first thought of the plan, she had been so delighted with it and so impressed with her own wickedness. Every morning she had looked in the mirror and said "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," just like Fred and George used to do with their map. 

It was a perfect plan. She could be sure that Harry would finally notice her, but not notice that anything was wrong, and since it wasn't permanent there would have been no harm done. There were worse things than being attracted to your best friend's sister, especially if she was cute, and if she ever wanted the spell to end she knew how. She thought she had planned for everything. Then Hermione had hit her and the powder and its mixing bowl had fallen and shattered on the floor, along with the plan. "Maybe Hermione will feel tortured and think she's an actual lesbian!" thought Ginny. "It would serve her right. Then she'll graduate and move far away with her lesbian lover and leave Harry with me." Ginny laughed weakly. "That would be the only solution," she thought grimly. Right now there was nothing she could do. Well, maybe not nothing. She could take care of the feelings and fantasies for a little while so that she could at least think clearly. 

Ginny looked to see if the painted mermaid was watching, but the rocks and the sea were empty today. She folded her skirt up over her thighs and slid her hand underneath the waistband of her panties. Leaning her head back against the wall, she closed her eyes and began to stroke herself. She tried to think about the usual things, but Hermione's face kept replacing them. Finally Ginny decided that if that was the way her fantasy wanted to go she would just let it. She was surprised at the intensity of her own reaction. As her fingers traced slow circles she crossed and uncrossed her legs, feeling the pressure increase and decrease in waves. 

Hermione was in the room with her and candles were lit. It was very warm. The bath had been drawn and rose petals floated on its surface. She could smell the faint trace of Hermione's citrus scented shampoo as Hermione reached over and began unbuttoning Ginny's shirt. 

"You got to see me, now I want to see you," Hermione said softly. Slowly they unfastened each others clothes until the floor was strewn with robes and skirts, and they were naked. Ginny's eyes flickered under their closed lids. Hermione's wet hair was plastered to her face in thick wet strands, but it fanned out under the water to curve in mermaid tendrils around the edges of her small breasts. Her knees were above the water and Ginny was between them. She could feel the heat of the water's currents around her legs as Hermione moved forward to kiss her. 

In the dim candlelight, the dark shadows Hermione had gotten under her eyes from so much studying gave her a haunted look, almost like Harry. Hermione put her arms around Ginny, lowering herself down until they were against the back of the tub and Ginny could feel the weight of Hermione's body resting gently over hers, half supported by the water. Hermione's lips were wet with condensed steam and her cheeks were flushed, but her mouth was cool inside, her tongue was cool as it slid softly and deliberately over the inside of Ginny's upper lip. 

As Ginny gave herself over to the kiss in the daydream, she licked her own lips and pressed her knees together. Her wrist was now trapped between the top of her thighs and she was squeezing hard enough to cut off circulation but she didn't stop. She imagined every texture of the dream, Hermione's smooth skin pressed against hers, their arms around each other, their breasts touching, the closeness of her face, the electric contact of the kiss, and the ache inside her intensified. It felt so good that for a moment it actually hurt and then her whole body tensed. Ginny shut her eyes tighter and bit her lower lip involuntarily, shuddering. As the shaking subsided, a sense of relief and resignation replaced it. Ginny took a deep breath and sighed. "Oh, bloody hell," she said softly to the empty room, "I'm in love."


	2. Chapter 2

In the dream Hermione stood at the tower window, her lamp casting a small circle of streaming light around her bare feet. The window was open and a warm night breeze blew the smell of the forbidden forest into the cold stone room. Outside she could see countless tiny stars glimmering in the darkness, an enormous full moon, and in front of the moon, Ginny. She was naked, her pale skin glowed softly with the reflected moonlight and her hair was a smudge of purple. The breeze blew strands of hair across her face as she floated in mid-air. In her two hands she held a huge red glass goblet resting on a on a silver stem with roses and crescent moons etched into its rim. An eerie light shone from the liquid in the goblet, and steam rose in tendrils from its dark surface.

"Drink," said Ginny. Hermione did not want to drink, but she found herself walking towards the window. Ginny put the goblet to Hermione's lips. It was too sweet and too thick, like maraschino cherry syrup, and it repulsed her but she drank greedily until the goblet emptied itself and disappeared. Ginny held out her hand.

"Now fly with me," she said, and as Hermione took her hand she felt herself lifting off the ground. It was as if they were as light as a sheet of paper which the wind picked up and wafted out of the window into the wide night sky. She felt the wind on her skin and realized that she was also naked. It was a feeling of such freedom that it was intoxicating. The moon and stars were her sisters, the forest stretching out below them was all her domain, and Ginny was her liberator. Hermione threw back her head and laughed and shouted triumphantly, pulling Ginny to her and running her hands over Ginny's cool skin. Ginny put her legs around Hermione and they rose giggling and shrieking into the sky. They began kissing and with every kiss Hermione felt further and further from the ground, far away from the life in which nothing like this ever happened. This was as if all her luck had been saving itself to manifest in one moment of happiness. Ginny's full lips were pressed against hers as though she would never believe it was true, never be satisfied. Her left arm was thrown around Ginny's neck and Ginny's left arm was around her waist, but other than that they were a mirror: two sets of round hips rubbing themselves against the other's right thigh, two smooth sets of legs gliding over each other with every grind of the hips, two delicate faces- one fiery and one dark- eagerly kissing as their silhouettes passed over the moon. A wild feeling of abandon overtook Hermione and heat came over her body without warning. She suddenly felt as though she could not stop, and the wind, which had been so gentle, reached into her body and plucked at the core of her being as if she were a harp. For a moment there was no sound, no light. The world and even she herself went away and nothing remained but pleasure, a pleasure so intense that it eclipsed thought and she gasped for breath. When she opened her eyes, she was looking into two huge green eyes. When the eyes pulled back to reveal Ginny's gleefully smiling face, she felt a twinge of guilt. Then the number of rules they had just transgressed began to tally itself in her mind: sneaking around after lights-out, going to the Forbidden forest, flying without supervision, not to mention being very, very out of uniform.

"Ginny," said Hermione, "we need to go back."

"But it's so fun to be dark," said Ginny as a wicked gleam began to show in her eyes.

Hermione looked down at the hand that so casually rested against her breast and saw the Dark Mark on the pale freckled forearm.

"No," said Hermione, "Oh no."

She pulled away from Ginny. Lifting her own arm off Ginny's neck, she caught sight of her own forearm and a sick, cold feeling came over her. There, on her own arm, was the Dark Mark.

She opened her eyes with a start and Parvati was standing over her with a concerned look. She was in her own bed, under the covers and her heart was racing.

"Were you having a nightmare?" said Parvati, "You were saying "oh no, oh no."

"For a moment Ginny's face flashed across Hermione's mind, as she looked down at the shattered ceramic bowl and the white powder on Hermione's face.

"Oh no" Ginny had said.

"It's time I found out what was really in that powder," thought Hermione.

"Are you all right?" Parvati asked, "Do you want to sleep with Simon?" She held out the teddy bear to Hermione.

"Do you mean it?" asked Hermione.

"Go ahead," said Parvati, "He's not much of a talker but he's perfect for snuggles."

Hermione was not very tired but there wasn't anything she could do without arousing suspicion.

"Thank you," she said to Parvati, taking the bear. "It must have been a love potion," she thought as she folded her arms around Simon and pretended to sleep. Perhaps later that night she could sneak up into the boy's room and ask Harry to borrow his invisibility cloak, and then go down to Ginny's floor and look in her locker. "She might still have the ingredients," thought Hermione. Then it dawned on her. Harry. That potion could only have been for Harry. Ginny had been crushing on him since first year, everyone know that, but to use a love potion? Hermione felt awful just thinking about it and a knot of fear began to form in her stomach. Love potions were illegal dark magic. Even Advanced Potions students were only allowed to learn their ingredients and antidotes, not how to actually brew them. If it really were a love potion, Ginny could be expelled. And how would Harry feel? How would she feel, if she were Harry? Could she really ask him to keep such a secret from Ron, about Ron's own sister? The image of Harry's disappointed and sadly resigned face came to her mind, and it was like a needle in her heart. No, she couldn't tell Harry or Ron. She would have to confront Ginny and find the antidote herself. -----

In the morning, after dressing, Hermione turned the time turner and crept out the painting to the library. In addition to the time turner, she had been given the key to the restricted section, as had all Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts students. She went to the section on love potions and looked up powders. There were several. Fairy Dust could be used as a love potion, but it only made the recipient impressed with your beauty and susceptible to suggestion.

"Not potent enough," though Hermione. Zeus's Gold was the most potent one, inducing in its victim a desperate need to make love immediately with the first person they saw and obedience to that person which would last until death. However, it was gold in colour, not white. Then Hermione saw what she had been searching for.

"Sucresate Powder," read Hermione, "a fine white dust, it was used by wizards during the Roman times as part of Saturnalia celebrations. Also known as Lust Incense, it was burned on braziers in banquet rooms or blown through ornate golden pipes off balconies over crowds of revelers. Those affected by Sucresate would fall in love with the first person they saw but their conscious judgment would not be altered. Their love would last until they had make love three times." Hermione paused. Vague images of historical orgies intruded on her thoughts and she saw herself and Ginny in a room full of writhing bodies in togas.

"Three times in one night?" she thought, and then remembered that the festival had lasted several days. "I guess that insured that every participant would have a partner, regardless of looks or the ratio of women to men." Despite her situation, Hermione allowed herself to be impressed with their ingenuity. "Let's see: ingredients, historical relevance, where is the antidote section?" She flipped the page back and forth. "Perhaps it's in Annotated Antidotes." She pulled another enormous book off the shelf. She was still flipping through pages when the first bell rang and she realized she had missed breakfast again. With a frown, Hermione reshelved the books and set off for her first class.

Ginny was not at the Gryffindor table at lunch.

"Is Ginny feeling ill?" Hermione asked Ron, but Ron just shrugged with his mouth full and Hermione didn't want to raise suspicions. The attendance of the rest of her classes and prereading for the next day's lectures occupied the remainder of Hermione's unnaturally long afternoon. Ginny arrived later than usual for dinner, and left earlier, which meant she couldn't get a seat anywhere near Harry or Ron. "Or me for that matter," thought Hermione, "which is understandable, given what she must be feeling." Hermione had been thinking of guilt, over the illegal potion, or embarrassment, but then she realized Ginny must be feeling something else as well... love. The thought of Ginny loving her and avoiding her presence made Hermione feel sorry for Ginny. "After being in love with Harry: Gryffindor seeker and destroyer of evil, being in love with Hermione: ink stained nerd who couldn't catch the snitch if it hit her in the face must feel pretty pathetic." Then she reminded herself of what Ginny had done. "I have to get angry", she chided herself, "or I'll never be able to fight the effects of the powder."

"Hermione?" said Harry. Hermione looked up.

"Yes?" Harry looked confused.

"Would you like some cream for your spaghetti?"

"What? Oh..." Hermione looked down at her plate and saw that she had been spooning sugar into her pasta instead of her iced tea.

"Or do you prefer your spaghetti black?" Ron added, raising his eyebrows. Hermione sighed.

"I'm just a little preoccupied." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the complete truth either, and Hermione knew she had been seen through by the look Harry and Ron exchanged. Harry spoke first.

"Hermione, I know I can't tell you to drop a class," he began. Ron's face at Harry's shoulder looked as if he could tell her to drop a class. "But I would like you to put your needs first, above schoolwork." Harry finished. It was as if he had said, "I would like you to put the needs of Pluto first, above those of Earth." Hermione managed to cover her relief that neither of them had noticed Ginny and shot Harry an arrogant look.

"I'm doing well in all of my classes." She said, by way of proof, and turned the discussion to other things. By the time Hermione reached the Gryffindor Tower, everyone was clustered around the fire in the Common Room, laughing and talking, and no one had seen Ginny. Hermione went to Harry's bookbag and slid the marauders map out of its hidden pocket. The little dot was heading down the stairs towards Slytherin Dungeon.

"That's odd," thought Hermione, but then the dot changed direction and headed for the library. Hermione picked up her books and snuck out the painting after Ginny. As she walked to the library, Hermione began to have second thoughts.

"What if it's me?" she wondered. She pictured Ginny giving her a blank stare when confronted about the powder. "If I'm wrong," thought Hermione, "it's going to be hard to explain to Ginny why I'm having sexual fantasies about her."

As she reached the library, the setting sun was behind and below the high stained glass windows so that the room was dark but the windows glowed. Ginny was sitting on a step stool behind one of the stacks, leaning against the wall with her feet propped upon a pile of books. She looked frustrated. Hermione thought of how many hours she had spent at Hogwarts, surrounded by enormous leather-bound volumes of spells with that same expression on her face, and she envied Ginny for being one year younger and not having to think about leaving yet. She watched as Ginny absentmindedly twirled as strand of hair around her finger. It looked so fine and soft.

"Stop that," Hermione thought. "Okay, get angry," she told herself, and managed to feel somewhat self-righteously irked. She walked over and stood next to Ginny.

"Hi," she said, casting a glance over the books. They were Potions books with names like "Antidotes and more Antidotes," and "The Worst Case Scenario Spellbook". Ginny gave a start and looked up. Her mouth fell slightly open.

"Thought I wouldn't see you at the back of the stacks?" Hermione's voice was soft and questioning. Ginny said nothing. Her eyes flickered up to the ceiling and back, thinking.

"Are you looking for the antidote to that love powder you spilled all over me yesterday?" Ginny still said nothing, but now she looked as if she couldn't speak. For a moment Ginny's face wore an expression exactly like Ron's always did when he was caught not paying attention in class, but Hermione hardened her resolve and stared at Ginny unwaveringly.

"Sucre Saturnus, is that it?" Ginny looked at the floor. Colour was rising in her face and she was starting to look angry.

"I'd be happy to help you prepare the antidote," said Hermione, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "except that there isn't one. There is only one remedy, Ginny, and we are not, not..." Hermione struggled to complete the sentence, "we are not doing THAT. Most people would bother to find out such things before dumping powder onto someone for whom it obviously wasn't intended." Ginny closed the book with a slam and stood up.

"First of all," Ginny whispered sharply, "I didn't dump it on you, you bumped into me when you came shooting down the hall at about a billion kilometres an hour. " Ginny leaned in towards Hermione, her hands gesticulating frantically in the air. Good, thought Hermione, at least she's not going to deny it.

"Secondly, it's not like you never do anything wrong, Miss Head-Girl-Proper-Lady-Uber-Witch, because I see you sneaking around with Ron and Harry all the time."

"You have a lot of nerve, saying that to me. I never..." Hermione had been about to say that she had never done anything illegal, but then she remembered that some of the things they had done actually had been illegal.

"Well, now you do!" countered Ginny with a shake of her head. "So you can go ahead and tell me to stay away from your man or you'll rip my spine out and strangle me with it, but don't tell me that you "never" and don't go to Dumbledore and try to get me expelled or I swear to God I really will do something evil." Hermione drew herself up to her full height, which made her a little more than one inch shorter than Ginny.

"I am not a tattletale!" she said with conviction. "I haven't even told Ron, so why would I tell Dumbledore?"

Ginny leaned against the stacks and sighed. She seemed able to look anywhere but at Hermione. Hermione took a step closer.

"Ginny, you're in a lot of trouble. We're in a lot of trouble." She put her hand on the edge of the shelf next to Ginny's head. "Look at me." Hermione said sternly. Ginny looked. For a moment her eyes were level with Hermione's. Then Ginny leaned forward and kissed Hermione on the mouth. Hermione breathed in sharply and let go of the bookcase. Hermione's lips were smooth and soft, more so than any boys, and the curves of her body slid easily past Ginny's hands. Ginny put her arms around Hermione, pulling her closer. They sank to their knees on the dark wood floor between the towers of books, kissing passionately. Hermione held her hands out behind Ginny's back, as if to steady herself against something. Suddenly it was very quiet in the library. Only a few of the magical books chattered and rustled on their stands. With a gasp Hermione pulled back from the kiss.

"I can't believe I let this happen!" she said anxiously. Her hands were shaking. She pushed Ginny away and stood up. She was fighting for breath and her eyes were wide.

"I just wanted," she began and then looked away, "I don't know what I want anymore!" She put a hand up to her mouth and touched her own lips. Ginny reached for her, but Hermione backed away. She picked up her bag and ran out of the library without looking back. When she was gone Ginny sat for a moment on the floor. Cautiously she reached a hand up, imitating Hermione's gesture, and touched her own lips. Then she curled onto her side in a ball on the floor and lay there, until the lamps flickered to signal the closing of the library. -------

Ginny woke up to find Hermione's hand over her mouth.

"Shhh." Hermione whispered. Ginny looked around. It was still quite dark. The clock on the bedside table showed almost midnight.

"Come with me," said Hermione, taking her hand off Ginny's mouth. Hermione had her robe on over her pyjamas and white fuzzy ankle socks instead of slippers. Ginny put her robe on over her nightgown. Hermione took her hand. Somehow the light pressure of Hermione's hand around hers felt more intimate than kissing in the library had felt. It was the first time since Hermione had learned about the powder that she had initiated any kind of touching. Ginny barely felt the cold floor under her feet, or the world around her, so much of her attention was focused on Hermione's hand in hers. She felt alive, acutely aware of her heartbeat and the sharp thrill of joy in her chest which made it hard to breathe. They snuck out of the portrait hole and up a staircase. Ginny assumed that Hermione knew some sort of hiding place but as she followed it became clear that they were heading for the Astronomy Tower.

"Hermione," Ginny whispered. Hermione turned her torchlit face around and put a slender finger to her lips.

"Are we going to the Astronomy Tower?" Ginny asked.

"It should be deserted." Hermione whispered confidently and quickly. "The only scheduled viewing this week is the Astronomy club on Tuesday and Filch almost never goes up there, so we should be okay once we get to the Tower....." Hermione broke off. Ginny was smiling at her with her mouth half open in shock. They paused at the bottom of the Tower stairs.

"You've never been up there? With anyone? But you're a Seventh Year!" Ginny's eyes were flashing with delight. It was well known that sneaking up to the Astronomy Tower after dark was forbidden. It was also well known that so many students lost their virginities at the top of the Astronomy Tower that it was practically a requirement for graduation. Hermione took her hand away and crossed her arms over her chest. The torches only lit one side of her face, but it was enough to see that she was upset. Hermione bit her lower lip and looked away. Ginny felt guilty for having laughed, as it began to occur to her how Hermione must feel. Hermione got to hang out with Harry all the time, of course, but she also got treated like just one of the boys by all of the Gryffindors. Ginny realized she was probably not the only girl in Gryffindor who sometimes felt overlooked.

"No." Hermione said softly. "No one has ever invited me up to the Astronomy Tower. I'm just not the kind of girl boys think about asking up to the Astronomy Tower. I just don't want to leave without ever having been up there after hours. Everyone else has been but me. I just thought that you and I, I mean, if we had to, if we were going...."

They froze. The torches at the back of the hall had come on.

"Filch." Ginny mouthed earnestly. She took Hermione's hand and they ran up the stairs. At the top of the stairs Ginny opened the door and discovered that she had been right. There were no fewer than three couples up there already, all Slytherins. A blond girl with a childlike face and an Asian boy with spiky hair were from her year, Sonali and Derek. So were the redhead with her blouse half unbuttoned and the tall blond boy next to her, Anne and Corwin. The others were from a younger year. All six of them stopped kissing and stared at Ginny and Hermione.

"Oh my God," said Anne with a smirk. "It's the president and vice president of the Shag me Potter Fan Club! And they're lesbians!" She dragged out the last syllable, carrying it up an octave on the vowel so that it ended in a shriek.

"They're not real lesbians, I'm sure," laughed Sonali. "They just can't get boyfriends!" They giggled. The two girls grabbed each other's shoulders.

"Oh, Hermione, pretend you're Potter again!" Sonali pleaded in a high stage voice.

"No!" insisted Anne, "You promised it would your turn to be Potter! It's your turn!" They howled with laughter. Sonali messed up her hair, pushed her glasses up on her nose and, placing her hand over her mouth, faked an exaggeratedly passionate kiss with Anne. Both girls stuck their tongues into their own cheeks and moved them around, pretending to French.

"Ah, here we see a conjunction of two heavenly bodies," Derek joked lamely, doing his best imitation of their Astronomy professor.

"Shut up, git, you're blocking my view," responded Corwin. Ginny drew her wand and raised it high in the air.

"No, Ginny!" Hermione pulled her away by the back of the cloak, down the tower stairs and they ran back to the Gryffindor common room, closing the door behind them and collapsing into embroidered armchairs by the embers of the fire.

"I am never going up there again!" wailed Hermione.

"You think that's bad, wait until tomorrow! Why wouldn't you let me curse them?"

"Ginny, fighting could get us expelled!" Hermione protested.

"One little memory spell ..." Ginny clenched her fists, "would have saved us a lot of grief. We could have taken them on, they're not that good." She put her fists on her hips, eyes flashing with the need to prove herself.

"It's not just against the rules, Ginny." Hermione said, standing to face her with a determined look. "It's wrong. It's wrong to manipulate other people." The instant the words were out of her mouth she was sorry she had said them. Ginny looked slapped.

"I'm sorry." Hermione said into the silence. Hermione went to Ginny and put her arms around her. When Ginny raised her head, her eyes were shining with tears. .She stepped forward into Hermione's arms and kissed her, tasting salt and not sure if she were crying from anger, fear or desire. Their kisses grew in intensity as they swayed together over to the red couch and leaned back onto the large velvet pillows. Hermione drew her wand and made a wide sweep in the air, setting up a temporary ward around the common room.

"It's not enough to explain why we're not in bed," Hermione explained between kisses, "but it will let us know if someone is coming."

"Please," said Ginny, "say you want to do this."

Ginny was on her back against the red pillow. Hermione looked down into Ginny's eyes and Ginny could see her own reflection clearly in Hermione's dark pupils, waiting for an answer.

"Why would I ask that," thought Ginny, "she's only going to say that we have no choice, and it's my fault."

"I want to," Hermione whispered gently, and kissed Ginny. Ginny closed her eyes. The extraordinary softness of the kiss astonished her again. It felt too good to be true, like a dream you wish you could never wake up from. It was a spell, she knew this, and could remember hating Hermione, but none of that mattered to her. Hermione wanted to, because she loved her and the smile in Hermione's eyes when she said so fulfilled a need Ginny hadn't known she'd had. Hermione put her hand on Ginny's thigh and slid the hem of her nightgown up to her hips. Ginny tensed. She had nothing on under the nightgown and knew, with trembling nervousness, what Hermione was about to do. They were lying together on the couch, Ginny on her back and Hermione between Ginny's legs. The dim glow from the fireplace flickered over the room, casting deep shadows. On of Hermione's arms was around Ginny, underneath her back, and one of Ginny's legs was folded over Hermione's calves. Ginny's back arched and she drew deep quick breaths as Hermione's hand moved under the thin fabric of the nightgown, caressing her. Hermione's touch was gentle and patient but not hesitant.

"Of course," thought Ginny, "she's a girl."

Hermione's breath was warm on her neck as she kissed along the curved edge of Ginny's ear and nuzzled her hair. Hermione turned her palm and ran her thumb slowly upwards until she heard Ginny stifle a moan. Ginny put her head back, gasping. Her cheeks were flushed and colour showed across her collarbone where the top edge of the lace ended. She put her arms around Hermione, one hand grasping the fabric at the small of Hermione's back, the other on the back of Hermione's head, lost in her long dark hair. The rhythm of their brushing bodies and syncopation of their breathing was a rising susurration against the accompaniment of the quietly crackling coals. Ginny kissed Hermione's forehead, kissed her temples and her high rounded cheeks. Hermione ran the tip of her tongue up Ginny's neck and playfully held Ginny's earlobe between her teeth. Her dark eyes regarded Ginny from under the fringed corners of their half closed lids. Her hands weren't moving anymore, just pressing and allowing Ginny's hips to move where they would. They moved quickly and Ginny's hands clutched and released the back of Hermione's robe at faster intervals. For a moment Hermione was pinned between Ginny's knees and Ginny was squeezing her hand around Hermione's hair so hard she was almost pulling it. Then Ginny relaxed. Her eyes opened and Hermione looked down into rings of green with wide black cores, glossy and adoring. Ginny brought Hermione's head to her shoulder and they lay there for a long while with their arms around each other and their bellies together, feeling each other breathe. Ginny's hands traced idle circles across Hermione's lower back.

"Was that," said Hermione, "an orgasm?"

Ginny nodded.

"Why, are yours different?"

Hermione looked away.

"I don't, I can't...."

Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"I suppose I'm doing it wrong," said Hermione with an anxious expression. "Every time I, well, every time I try I just feel like a fool. I don't know what I'm doing and, well, after a while I just give up."

Ginny smiled. "You didn't seem not to know what you were doing just now."

Hermione blushed.

"I just did what you seemed to like," she said shyly, "and I've studied Anatomy."

"Hogwarts teaches Anatomy?"

Ginny looked skeptical.

"No, but my parents are dentists, and they have these medical textbooks on their shelves."

"And you read them? When?"

Hermione shrugged.

"Over the summer. I get very bored during the summer. My parents call me a voracious reader, but I think they may suspect that dental anatomy is clear on the opposite side of the body from what I was actually studying."

Ginny laughed.

"You're mad."

She took Hermione by the shoulders and turned toward the back of the couch, flipping Hermione under her. Ginny was on her knees with her hands on Hermione's shoulders

."No, no, no." Hermione whispered, but she was trying not to laugh. She giggled nervously and struggled to sit up. Ginny pressed Hermione's shoulders into the pillow.

"No getting away," Ginny said wickedly. "No feeling foolish." She kissed Hermione on the forehead. "You're supposed to lose control."

"I can't, I can't..." Hermione softly apologized.

"You don't have to," said Ginny, "I'm just going to do what you seem to like."

They laughed. She unbuttoned Hermione's pyjamas, kissing Hermione's neck and running her hands up under her pyjama top. Hermione's breasts were different than in Ginny's daydream. Ginny had imagined that they would look like hers, but they were slightly fuller and the nipples were larger and darker. Hermione put her hands up to Ginny's face, holding Ginny's hair back from her eyes. Hermione's hands were shaking. She pulled Ginny down to kiss her and Ginny slid down until she was lying on her belly with her legs on either side of Hermione's hips, moving her hands up into Hermione's hair and kissing back. Hermione put her arms around Ginny and held her tightly. For a long time they lay there kissing in the firelight. Ginny slowly moved her right hand down between their bodies, under the waistband of Hermione's pyjamas. Hermione held her breath. Her hands grasped each other behind Ginny's back. She exhaled with a sigh and closed her eyes. They were lying half undressed on the red sofa with Ginny on top, a tableau of crumpled clothes and smooth limbs. Ginny supported herself on her left elbow and her right hand was between Hermione's legs. Hermione's eyelids fluttered. She could feel the warmth of Ginny's body against hers and the soft brush of Ginny's hair against her neck and face. Her need for Ginny was sharp, like hunger pangs, and her heart was pounding in her chest. Touching Ginny sent shivers of excitement through her body like delicate lightning. She twisted, trying to get as close to Ginny as possible, but Ginny held Hermione fast between her knees. With every kiss that Ginny leaned in to give her, with every stroke of Ginny's hands, the need intensified until it was an ache that took hold of her, controlling her movements. Part of her wanted Ginny to stop, but she couldn't speak. The spell, the powder were gone from her thoughts. Her love for Ginny was real to her. Tears slid down the corners of her eyes and diagonally down into the fine wisps of hair at her temples. Her eyes were shut tight and her parted lips were glossy and red from having been kissed. Her breathing was audible. She seemed to be struggling either to get closer to Ginny, or to get away from Ginny, or perhaps both. Her hands were alternating between fists, which beat softly against the upholstery, or fans, in the air at her sides with all fingers arched as if reaching for something. Hermione made one small noise and then bit her lower lip. She didn't shudder, as Ginny had, but remained for a moment motionless and flexed, as if time had stopped. When she began breathing again she was still crying. Ginny said nothing but kissed the tears from the corners of Hermione's eyes and rested her head against Hermione's chest, her red hair spread out across Hermione's shoulder. They lay there until their breathing synchronized.

"I can hear your heartbeat," said Ginny.

Hermione smiled.

"We should go back upstairs, Ginny."

Ginny shook her head.

"It's going to start getting light soon," Hermione reminded.

Ginny sighed.

"Get up then," Ginny said teasingly.

"You have to get up first, Ginny," Hermione said, stating the obvious. Ginny sighed again, dramatically this time, and pretended to snore. Hermione giggled and kissed Ginny on the top of her head.

"We have to be in our own beds when the others wake up." She took Ginny's hands. Ginny sat up, pulling Hermione after her. They blushingly rearranged their hair and clothes and crept up the stairs. Halfway up the stair, Hermione turned. She paused with one hand on the stone wall of the Tower, looking back at Ginny.

"I love you." Hermione said solemnly. Ginny stared up at her.

"Hermione, this is all my fault." She looked so much like a younger Ron, apologizing for accusing Crookshanks at the end of third year. Hermione felt suddenly protective of her, as if she had put Ginny in this situation.

"I love you," she repeated.

"I love you too," said Ginny timidly.

Hermione climbed up half a flight and disappeared into the seventh year girl's quarters. Ginny watched her for a moment with a worried expression, then turned and snuck back into bed.


	3. Chapter 3

"They're up to something, I'm sure of it," Harry said at breakfast the next morning.

"Pass the jam please, Ginny," said Hermione. Ginny handed her the dish and for a moment brushed her fingertips against Hermione's reaching hand. They smiled at each other across the table.

"You're right, they keep whispering and making odd gestures at us. It can't be good," said Ron.

Just then Goyle made a gesture, sticking his tongue between his middle and index fingers and wiggling it around. Malfoy snickered and Pansy Parkinson laughed, a high nasal sound.

"Just ignore them," said Hermione with a soft smile, tucking her hair behind her ears and taking a bite of toast. Hermione had sat with her back to the Slytherin table ever since Malfoy had called her a Mudblood during second year, so she couldn't see who was talking but she could hear the whispering and giggling from that section of the Great Hall.

She was somewhat worried, despite the happy butterflies in her stomach and the smile on her face. The memory of Ginny's eyes looking shyly up at her in the dark corridor was not enough to put the memory of her dream about the Dark Mark out of Hermione's mind. Why had Ginny been heading down the stairs to the Slytherin Dungeon, and where had she gotten the darker ingredients for the powder?

"I'm sure they're just trying to convince themselves that they're not about to lose at Quidditch," said Ginny, looking across the table at Hermione and licking jam off her fingers.

"You did put the playbook back in the....the place, Harry?" Ron asked, fidgeting. Harry gave him a hurt look. Ever since Ron had become Keeper in fifth year he had been working on a strategic playbook and insisted on a level of security which Harry had found excessive, and said so. Hermione could remember the fight they had once in the common room when Ron was explaining a particularly complicated play to Harry, who had a report due the next day, and Harry had begun shouting "It's Quidditch, Ron, Quidditch! This is NOT the INVASION of NORMANDY!" Ron had been reluctant to leave the playbook in Harry's hands ever since.

"Well," Ron continued, "you might have left it under that pile of stuff in the room. Or it could have been wrapped in the red sweater you lost."

"The playbook is safe, Ron." Harry said simply, "I saw it this morning when I put it back and my red sweater has been missing for almost a week now. I took it off during practice and put it on the ground and when I came back it was gone. It probably got blown into the lake or something. The playbook couldn't have been in it."

Hermione was sorry to hear that Harry had lost his red sweater, as it had always been her favourite. He often sat at the table in the common room playing chess with Ron, the sleeves and collar of his striped pyjamas poking out underneath the red wool. It was a look. It wasn't fashionable, but it was Harry.

Hermione heard Malfoy snicker behind her and she knew it had to be the confrontation at the Astronomy Tower they were talking about. Ginny was shooting murderous looks at the Slytherin table. Hermione shook her head forcefully at Ginny and random strands of curls in her hair bounced back and forth. Ginny sullenly pushed bits of scrambled egg around on her plate, but Hermione did not acknowledge her mood at the breakfast table.

Hermione passed the remainder of the day in a state of quiet exhilaration. Every so often Hermione would catch Ginny's eyes in the hall and her heart would leap. She would pick out the back of Ginny's head in a crowd and feel a sudden longing to run up and put her arms around Ginny. It amazed her that she could feel this way. It was so perfect. She felt she was gliding through time off the ground, as if she was on roller skates and the rest of the world was walking. She had a lover. The word seemed strange and awkward to her. It reminded her of some Muggle book she had heard of once, Lady Something-or-Other. Hermione sighed at the thought of all the books she would like to have read. Perhaps after she finished Hogwarts she could devote more time to reading the Muggle Classics.

The only thing that amazed her more than her love for Ginny was that Ron and Harry had failed to notice. If she had acted this way around a boy they would certainly have noticed right away and would probably have been both jealous and vigilant until either she broke it off or he went away. That's how it had been with Viktor. She might have thought they would be pleased, since he was a famous Quidditch player, but when they began dating he became public enemy number one. Both Harry and Ron would scowl when she mentioned his name. Of course she never did mention his name anymore since it reminded Harry of Fourth year and she didn't want to make Harry sad.

Things were different with Ginny. Hermione could have been flirting with Ginny so obviously that she made herself blush and Harry and Ron would just go on discussing Quidditch or Chess, or curses they would like to use on Professor Snape, completely oblivious.

In fact, Hermione remembered with a smile, the last time they had stayed at the Burrow over the summer she had shared Ginny's bed. It was a twin four-poster with a pink quilt in a small room which seemed entirely covered in ripped-up back issues of Teen Witch Weekly with lurid true life stories: "My Brother Polyjuiced himself into Me and Shagged My Boyfriend!", "My Granddad Exploded!", "Never do THAT with your wand; One Girl's Nightmare Trip to the Diagon Clinic!" and "AVEDA Kedavara- This Spell Won't Kill You But It Will Make Your Hair Smell Delicious!".

The thought of sharing a bed with Ginny now made Hermione nervous and tingly all over. She knew, despite her best judgement and the knot of fear in her stomach, that she was going to try to see Ginny tonight. Creeping into her bed was not a good idea as the likelihood of getting caught in a room full of lightly sleeping sixth year girls was very high. Quickly, she penned a note to Ginny. "I need to see you!" wrote Hermione. "Meet me outside the Charms Classroom at Midnight. Write back if you can't make it. I love you! -Hermione." She drew a border around it and a little heart in the dot of the i in her name, for emphasis. She folded it into a small square and placed it under Ginny's pillow for her to find. Hermione thought about Ginny waiting for her in the darkened hallway outside the Charms Classroom, and the hours went by like days.

\-------

It was very difficult for Ginny to get to sleep that night. She had brushed her teeth, slipped her nightgown on, combed her hair and climbed into bed when she felt the sharp corner of the folded note against her neck. She reached under the pillow and withdrew it. There was a moment when she was afraid the note would say that it was a mistake, that Hermione did not want her, or that she "had been doing a bit of research" and discovered some cure that did not involve the closeness of her body or the sweetness of her kiss. After hearing Hermione say I love you that would be intolerable.

Then she cast Lumos. The decorative script on the folded note was her own name in Hermione's hand with the capital G expressively large and the lower case letters tiny and exact. Over the i was a tiny heart and hearts and pentacles had been drawn in a frame around her name. Ginny practically tore the note open.

One glance at the clock told her it was several hours too early for her to meet Hermione and she was seized with frustration. "I will never live that long!" thought Ginny. She turned over and lay on her back looking up at the tapestry canopy of the bed. There were several soft lights still on in the dormitory, girls writing in their diaries or reading letters as they prepared for sleep, so it would be impossible for Ginny to anything about the arousal the letter had evoked in her. Ginny shivered in her nightgown as she remembered Hermione's kisses. Ever since last night, every place Hermione had touched her had come alive, so that she felt she had been given a new and unfamiliar body, one which looked the same but which had a heightened awareness of every sensation. Her clothes even felt different on. When she showered that morning she had been afraid that soap and water would wash away the new body, with its joyful awareness of itself, but it remained and now when she caught sight of herself in windows she was amazed that she still looked the same.

Ginny turned on her side so she could see the clock and pressed the letter to her lips, willing the hands to come together at midnight. At eleven thirty she couldn't stand it any longer. The clock seemed to have stopped it was moving so slowly and Ginny decided to wait for Hermione in the Charms Classroom.

On her way she passed the stairway to the Slytherin Dungeon and remembered how she had almost gone there after the powder had spilled on Hermione, to ask Malfoy for an antidote. Ginny silently thanked her intuition for the fear that had made her turn around and head to the library. Who knew what Malfoy would have wanted in exchange for an antidote, Ginny thought with a small shudder. He had seemed willing enough to go along with the original plan solely because it involved tricking Harry, and that had frightened Ginny but she knew that she would never be able to afford or even find most of the ingredients without someone who knew their way around the forked cobblestone streets of Knockturn Alley. Well, whatever he had planned for Harry wouldn't work now, thought Ginny with a smile, and besides if she hadn't gone to the library Hermione would not have kissed her there.

Lost in thought, Ginny made her way to the Charms classroom and found it already unlocked. The dimly lit lamps burned brighter as she entered. She walked idly up to the chalkboard. She could remember standing in front of that same chalkboard after lectures alone, writing her name and Harry's name next to each other, then her first name and Harry's last name, then Mrs followed by Harry's full name. She remembered these things clearly and they had not changed, but her love for Hermione had somehow layered itself over the other feelings without altering or diminishing them. Ginny picked up a piece of chalk and stood idly at the board. She heard the soft click of the door being pulled shut and turned around to find Hermione standing there.

Hermione smiled at Ginny and ran across the room to throw her arms around Ginny's shoulders and kiss her lips.

"You could say hello first," Ginny said teasingly. She hopped up onto the large wooden desk and sat there, swinging her legs.

"Hello," said Hermione between kisses as she climbed up onto the desk, forcing Ginny to lie back as Hermione moved forward until she was crouched on all fours above Ginny. Hermione's hair hung down around her face, brushing Ginny's cheeks and blocking out her view of the room like a dark veil. Ginny's legs and calves still dangled off the edge of the desk.

Hermione had put her clothes on to come downstairs. Ginny reached up and undid the clasp of Hermione's robes. She wriggled her fingers into the knotted gold and red tie around Hermione's neck, loosening it and pulling it off. Then she began with the white collared shirt. Hermione leaned in to kiss her. Keeping herself elevated over Ginny on her hands and knees, Hermione tipped forward so that they could kiss and Ginny could continue undressing her. She kissed with parted lips and Ginny could feel her fingers fumbling at the shirt when Hermione's tongue brushed the inside of her upper lip.

Hermione was looking at Ginny as if she could absorb Ginny through her eyes. Her kisses were becoming desperate and messy and their mouths slid smoothly over one another as each kiss melded into the next. Ginny slid her hands under Hermione's shirt and around her ribcage, feeling for the clasp of her bra, but she kept getting distracted by the kissing and the touch of Hermione's breasts against hers every time she leaned forward. To her surprise, Ginny found that years of undoing her own bra had not prepared her to unhook someone else's and their kissing was mixed with muffled laughter as she pulled at the clasp.

Hermione sat up until she was kneeling on the edge of the desk and unhooked her bra. She pulled the shirt off one sleeve at a time and then pushed the bra off and, after a moment's hesitation, dropped them on the floor. Ginny noticed that it was the same white cotton bra Hermione had been wearing the day the powder had spilled. She stared, mesmerized, as Hermione stripped over her.

When Hermione turned her head to undo the fastening of her grey wool skirt her hair fell in her eyes, hiding half her face and accentuating her unusual profile. Admiring her dark eyes with their fringed thick lashes, her round smiling cheeks and the exaggerated fullness of her lips over what remained of her overbite, Ginny wished she were better at coming up with compliments.

Even wearing nothing but her panties, with the rest of her uniform around her knees, Hermione didn't look like a picture in a magazine. She was definitely prettier than the pictures in the magazines her brothers sometimes tried to hide in the washroom. Hermione looked more like a girl from an old oil painting, like she should be asleep in an elegant room full of scarves and fruit.

"You're so beautiful." Ginny said. Hermione smiled.

"So are you." Hermione whispered, and Ginny felt tingling tracing over her skin when she saw that Hermione meant it.

Hermione leaned forward again and kissed the place where Ginny's collarbones met at the top of her nightgown. She slid down Ginny's body, kissing her through the thin cloth. Running her hands over Ginny's hips and down her belly, up to her breasts and then down again across the sides, Hermione's hands lightly trailed folds of the nightgown, pushing it up. Ginny tugged it over her head and felt it drop to the floor and the still air of the classroom over her naked skin.

Hermione slid off the desk and crouched next to it, her head between Ginny's hanging legs. She licked the inside of Ginny's thighs and Ginny laughed nervously. She could feel Hermione's breath up both thighs and between her legs. It was cold when Hermione breathed in, in the places she had licked, and it was warm when she breathed out. The room was suddenly very quiet, and the quiet was like a sound of its own. The desk was hard and Ginny could feel the narrow edge pressing into the backs of her thighs but she didn't dare move.

Hermione's tongue was unlike anything Ginny had ever felt. The intimacy of it was overwhelming. Every time Hermione paused, unsure or timid, Ginny felt her back arch involuntarily off the desk, struggling to bring her closer to Hermione's mouth. Every time Hermione's tongue flickered against the tender skin, Ginny felt as if she were an extension of Hermione's body which Hermione could move and control at will. Ginny could hear her own breath, ragged and broken. She wondered if she tasted bad, or smelled bad, like the dirty jokes always seemed to imply, but Hermione didn't stop.

Every time Hermione found a place where Ginny cried out, she would lick it harder, until there was never a time when Ginny did not cry out. The room blurred, all of the lights were surrounded by haloes, and Ginny realized that she was crying. She felt suspended in her own body, frightened and relieved at the same time as she allowed Hermione to make her arch and cry independently of her own will. The room became a blurry bubble of light which grew until there was no room, no time, only Hermione's mouth and Ginny's fear and joy. When the shaking subsided Ginny felt Hermione climb up next to her.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, placing a finger against Ginny's cheek and wiping away tears. Ginny nodded weakly. "Hermione, do I taste like anything?" she asked softly. Hermione thought about. "Like a lemon drop. Sort of. Hard to describe. Nothing bad though," she added, seeing the look of concern on Ginny's face.

"Oh, really?" said Ginny, reaching between Hermione's legs. She watched Hermione's eyes go wide with surprise, then watched her mouth open in disbelief as Ginny withdrew her hand, brought two fingers to her lips, and sucked them.

Hermione closed her eyes.

"Please," she said.

"Please what?" Ginny asked wickedly.

"Ginny, please. I want you, I want you to go down on me." Hermione's voice ended in a whisper and her eyes were tightly shut. Ginny sat up halfway and wiggled down until she slid off the desk and knelt on the floor where Hermione had been. Hermione placed her hand on Ginny's head and stroked her hair. Ginny bit Hermione's knee and she gasped, breaking out into fits of giggles. Ginny looked up and could see Hermione biting her lip to stop laughing. Ginny kissed the knee where she had bitten it and continued, kissing up the inside of Hermione's thigh. Now that her face was very close, she began to notice a faint sweet smell, almost overly sweet. She was briefly angry, at the jokes, for leading her to believe that she would smell bad.

Ginny realized she didn't have any idea what to do, where to begin, but curiosity overcame her doubt and she began to lick in slow arcs, pressing up until she heard Hermione catch her breath and then slowly down to one side or another at various angles, listening to Hermione's gasps change pitch from high to low. It was like Hermione's body was a musical instrument, her instrument. Ginny felt powerful. She wanted to make Hermione feel the way she had felt no matter how long it took, but soon she found that she couldn't control herself either.

The feeling of power as Hermione's body flexed when Ginny wanted it to and surrendered when Ginny wanted it to was intoxicating. The soft skin of Hermione's thighs against her palms made her want the moment to last forever but she couldn't help going faster. The floor was cold and her knees hurt but they felt far away. Her eyes were closed and she felt almost dizzy with the cloying sweetness of Hermione's smell which became stronger with her arousal. Hermione had been wrong about the lemon drops, Ginny thought, it was something else, something she couldn't identify but she had been right that it was not unpleasant.

Was her own body this smooth, this irresistible, like living silk? Could it feel this good to someone else to be touching her? It couldn't be, thought Ginny, because if it were that wonderful to touch her everyone would want to, and as far as she knew no one did. Even Hermione, who loved her, was under a spell.

No, it had to be that Hermione was the only girl who felt this way, and that was why she was so special. She's special, thought Ginny with a thrill of desire, and she's mine. She took her mouth away from Hermione's body for a moment and listened as she pleaded wordlessly and tried to pull Ginny's head back towards her. When Hermione's hands closed so tightly on Ginny's hair that they were pulling it, when her legs pressed hard together so that Ginny could scarcely breathe and her whole form curved into trembling shudders, it felt like a victory.

\------

They lay on the hard wooden desk. Clothes and robes were scattered in a haphazard circle around them. Ginny was getting cold. The darkness outside the windows made them mirrors, reflecting a series of otherworldly prismatic images of herself and Hermione, curled into a glowing naked half moon at her side with one arm under Ginny's neck and the other hand idly stroking her opposite hip. Hermione's eyes were closed and she did not seem to mind the cold. Ginny swung her feet back and forth under the desk, watching the reflected girl's feet move in a hundred panes of glass. They moved, therefore they were real and they were her.

A movement in the corner of the glass caught Ginny's eye. One of the doors of the tall cabinet opposite them swung gently open, as if the wind had caught it, but there was no draft in the classroom. Ginny tore her eyes from the reflections and looked across at the open cupboard. Leaning against the side wall, half revealed by the slowly opening door, was a thin figure in Slytherin robes. His pale blond hair was aggressively slicked back until it looked polished and hard. The washed out blue of his eyes and the childlike roundness of his mouth gave his face a quality of emotional transparency, so that every mood seemed to show right through it despite its owner's best efforts to keep his expression unreadable.

At this moment it looked amused and superior. Ginny watched as Draco Malfoy slowly unfolded his arms from his chest and began to applaud. His applause was slow and sarcastic and faded away into silence as he stepped out of the tall door, his expensive black robes dragging at his ankles. Ginny thought numbly of the already open door, the dimly lit lamps, and the fact that Malfoy was Head Boy and had keys to classrooms too.

He had probably been spying on her since that night at the Astronomy Tower. The shock of seeing him standing there faded and was replaced with concern, not for herself but for Hermione. Ginny knew Malfoy would take any chance to humiliate Hermione since he couldn't stand being second in the class after a Muggle-born girl. The fact that he knew hurting her feelings would also hurt Harry didn't help either.

"Brava, brava," said Malfoy. "Quite a show. Reminds me of the summer I convinced Father to send me to Amsterdam to study the lost moving landscape of Van Gogh. Not that Van Gogh painted moving landscapes, of course, but that was what made it such a spectacular coup."

Hermione got up off the desk. Her eyes were flashing with fury and she strode across the room. For a moment she managed to look more confident naked than Malfoy did fully clothed. However, when she tried to slap his face he casually caught her by the wrist with one hand and backhanded her with the other so hard that she fell to the floor with a look of pain and shock and his handprint across her face in white and red.

"Never," he said softly, "touch me."

"You could be expelled for striking me," said Hermione proudly from the floor.

"You could be expelled for using Dark Magic," he replied, "or didn't your low class lesbian girlfriend tell you where she got the ingredients?" His smile slowly crept back onto his face. "I wonder what your parents would think of your extracurricular activities. I wonder what Potter would think." He paused for effect. Hermione didn't answer. She was staring at the hem of Malfoy's robe. He looked at her, then at Ginny.

"You will give me the passwords to Gryffindor Tower. You will make sure I always have the password or I will make sure you are both expelled for use of the Dark Arts."

"Then you'll be expelled too!" Ginny shouted. She wanted to run to Hermione and heal her cheek, cover her so that Malfoy's scorching gaze couldn't see her naked and blindly staring from the floor.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that Weasley," Malfoy said, "you see it isn't illegal to own those ingredients, only to use them."

"I'll bet your father wrote that law!"

"As a matter of fact, your father wrote that law, Weasley, but I don't think it will do you much good. Meet me here on Friday at noon to tell me the password. I'll be leaving now, as if I see another freckle I will be forced to put out my eyes with a spork. And put some clothes on, Granger, no one wants to see filth like you naked." Malfoy turned, the heavy hem of his cloak swirling after him, and walked out of the classroom.

Ginny ran to Hermione and knelt next to her.

"I'm so sorry," she said, pulling Hermione to her feet.

"His cloak," said Hermione absently, "there was something on it."

"You won't get expelled, I'll make sure of that," Ginny insisted. "I'll go to Dumbledore and tell him it was all my fault."

Hermione looked up into Ginny's eyes. "It's okay," she said, putting a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "I think," Hermione said hesitantly, "I think I have a plan. We'll need Harry's Invisibility Cloak, and you will need to meet me somewhere tomorrow so we can use the Time turner to go back together to Malfoy's study period. And I need a camera. Can you do that?"

"I might be able to borrow Colin's camera, but what..."

"I'll tell you tomorrow. Right now we have to leave in case Malfoy changes his mind and decides not to give us any time."

Ginny nodded. They dressed quickly and snuck back up to the Tower together. Ginny tried to ask Hermione several times about the plan, but Hermione just held a finger to her lips and looked around as if she expected every shadow to be a Slytherin. Ginny resigned herself to not knowing that night, but as her fear of Malfoy subsided her anger grew. Whatever Hermione is planning, Ginny thought, it had better be good or I will curse him so badly that I will be expelled anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

They were lying together in Harry's bed. The sun streamed in through the tower window, illuminating swirling motes of dust and coating the bed with a buttery light. Hermione knew it was wrong to be skipping class, but it felt so good to be alone with Ginny, she didn't care. Harry's pillows smelled like Harry, like boy, a cut grass and earth smell. Harry's Quidditch uniform was huge on Ginny, and Ginny giggled as she kicked her feet in the too-big boots and waved her hands in the hanging striped sleeves. Hermione snuggled in closer to her, laughing and wrapping her arms around Ginny's slender body.

Ginny's face became calm and serious, almost solemn, as she leaned in and kissed Hermione on the mouth. Ginny's eyes were wide and translucent, her lips were warm and her pale skin was blushing under its veil of nutmeg coloured freckles. The buckle of Harry's Quidditch uniform was pressing into Hermione's stomach. She pressed back, squeezing Ginny's hips between her thighs as she opened her mouth.

"What if one of the boys walked in?" Hermione thought, but that did not make her want to stop.

Ginny pulled her lips away, choosing instead to follow the arc of Hermione's chin with feather light kisses and licks up to her ear and then down her neck to the hollow of her collarbone, one finger toying with the rim of Hermione's pale cotton bra. Hermione ran her hands down the front of Harry's Quidditch uniform, over Ginny's ribs, over the rough canvas trousers towards the belt buckle. She felt hot all over and the tingling in her legs was moving up her spine. She arched her back, reaching for Ginny's lips but Ginny smiled teasingly and held her face just out of reach.

Hermione's hands reached where the belt buckle should be, but instead of the buckle she felt something long and hard. The grain of the wooden handle and its inscription were familiar. Harry's racing broom? Ginny put her hand over Hermione's so that they held the shaft together and Hermione could not pull her hand away. Drawing it up between them in an attempt to get Ginny to let go, Hermione felt the smooth handle sliding up between both of their legs until they had it pinned between their bodies and the bristles itched her knees. Ginny's left eyebrow arched mischievously.

"What should I do with this?" she whispered.

"I.....I don't know," stammered Hermione, and woke up.

The room outside her four-poster bed was dark and silent, but Hermione had charmed a small crystal to glow at six in the morning to wake her up so she could study before class. The crystal grew brighter until it seemed like dawn behind her curtains although the rest of the dorm was dark.

For a few minutes Hermione lay in bed trying to get back into the dream. It had been so lovely, and Ginny had been in it. She had felt as if something was about to happen, and then she had woken up. Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deeply but she could not get back to the dream. She thought of Ginny, asleep in her bed one floor below her and the thought sent a pleasant anticipation through her, along with a pang of sadness. Although she could remember everything that had happened, with the moment the powder spilled like a dividing line across her life, and could remember not being in love with Ginny, she was still sad.

She knew that she should be furious. Ginny had tried to trick Harry with a love potion, with dark magic. She had enlisted Malfoy's help. Hermione could still feel the sting where Malfoy slapped her and knew he had enough violence in him to hurt Harry very badly. After everything Harry had endured he seemed simultaneously fragile and indestructible to Hermione. The thought of someone hurting or humiliating him with Harry unable to fight back filled her with rage, but it was all directed toward Malfoy, not Ginny. When she thought of Ginny now all she could think about was that they had slept together twice, and the next time would be the third time. Then the spell would be over. Hermione tried to imagine what it would be like not to love Ginny anymore, but she could not.

When her enchanted poetry alarm clock began to recite "Awake, for morning in the bowl of night," she got out of bed and dressed. Cautiously she crossed to the boy's side.

"Stop right there!" said the portrait of Lord Ulrich the Upright as she approached the landing. "Young lady, I cannot allow you to jeopardize your reputation by entering this chamber as I am honour-bound to prevent the slightest possibility of besmirchment to your fair person."

Hermione straightened her Prefect's badge.

"Ah, my apologies, Prefect. Carry out your duties." The door swung open.

Hermione crept over to Harry's trunk. She opened it as quietly as she could and pushed aside the jumble of clothes and Quidditch gear. At the bottom of the trunk there was something that felt like silk. Hermione checked to be sure she couldn't see it and stuffed it into her bookbag. Harry shifted slightly in his sleep.

Hermione stood quietly and looked at Harry. His glasses were on a chair next to the bed and his robes were thrown over the back of the chair. One striped pyjama covered arm was flung out over the side of the bed as if he were already reaching for the glasses. The covers were twisted around and under him and there was a small crease between his brows under the scar. He looked worried, but his eyes stayed shut. Hermione knew better than to watch him too long. Harry was a very light sleeper. She tiptoed out the door with the invisibility cloak in her bag and set off for the library.

\----

Ginny sat down at the breakfast table next to Colin and folded her napkin in her lap, turning to him with a cheerful smile. "Good morning, Colin," she said brightly. He turned to look at her, his face a mixture of surprise and hesitation. His hair was still wet from the shower. The camera was on the bench between them. The rest of the sixth years turned to look at Ginny. The fact everyone knew she always sat next to Ron wasn't going to make this easy, Ginny realized. She tried to smile innocently back at them.

Colin looked a little nervous, as if would curse him suddenly if he said something wrong.

"Good morning, Ginny," Colin said shyly.

Ginny decided the direct approach would work best. "I've been wondering if I could bother you for a favour?" she asked. Colin smiled. She took that as her cue to continue. "I was hoping you would let me borrow your camera."

Colin almost pouted. "I'll need it for Hogsmeade this weekend," he protested, but curiosity got the better of him. "What's it for?"

"Muggle studies class," said Ginny, "I was hoping to get extra marks if I could use a Muggle device."

"Oh," exclaimed Colin. "Well, you see," he said excitedly, "Muggle cameras work differently than the magic kind. Instead of a divining stone they have a lens, just like a pair of spectacles, and instead of Rememberall crystal dust the paper is coated with a mixture of chemicals which are highly sensitive to light when reactive..."

Ginny made a point to look into Colin's eyes and smile often as he, delighted to be an expert at something in front of an admiring girl, explained how to work the camera.

She walked away with it tucked under her arm, feeling more as if she had done Colin a favour than like she had tricked him.

Hermione was waiting for her in the girl's bathroom, sitting on one of the new gleaming sinks, reading. The entire bathroom had been redone after second year, but still no one used it, and faint moans accompanied by what could have been soft retching noises still floated up from Myrtle's now white and shining stall. Ginny stood for a moment and admired Hermione. It was easy, she had discovered, to stare at Hermione when she was reading because she scarcely noticed the world around her at all, and she was almost always reading. Ginny could study her face for hours and Hermione would not even look up. Right now she had her reading face on, and her expression was a mask of calm like the face of a Buddhist statue Ginny had seen once in the Museum of Magical Artefacts.

Hermione's hair was braided down her back in a long thick rope with a tuft at the tip like a lion's tail. She was bent over the heavy leather bound book until her round rear end was about to slide into the bowl of the sink and her posture was shaped like a question mark. The spine of the book was pressed into a V between her thighs and the grey wool pleats were creased out around it, each pleat a small suggestive shadow tugged out of place by the sharp edge of the large book. Hermione's knees were perfectly clean. Ginny had never been able to keep her own knees clean. In a skirt and knee high socks when she was always bending to pick something up in the courtyard or sitting on grass, they became dirty, smudged with grey or streaked by the dust from the flagstones where she had been sitting by the fire. Hermione's knees were so white that they seemed to glow, like little moons.

Ginny crept up to Hermione, trying not to let her trainers squeak on the tile, and stared at her from several feet away. Her round dark eyes were colder than when she looked at Ginny, moving over the lines of text like a bird skimming the surface of the lake. Their darkness looked bottomless, as if the knowledge in the book could fall into them and travel forever through the space behind them. She looked so serious that Ginny wanted to laugh.

Instead, she licked the tip of Hermione's nose and jumped back quickly. Hermione was startled and slid into the sink. She stood up, crinkling her nose and rubbing it on the back of her hand. She put her arms around Ginny and they stood, leaning back to look in each other's faces, casually using each other for support.

"Got the camera," said Ginny proudly. "Now would you please tell me what this is about?"

"Well, I've been thinking perhaps we should give Malfoy a sip from his own cauldron. This is the plan; Malfoy only has one free section today- at three o'clock. That's pretty much the only time when we can catch him completely alone. We'll meet here at four and use the time turner to go back one hour. That way we won't miss any lectures!"

Great, thought Ginny.

"We'll put on the Invisibility cloak. It should cover both of us, as I know it can cover Harry and Ron. We'll go down to the dungeons after Malfoy. If he can spy on us, then we can spy on him. I know how to use a Muggle camera. We'll get a few shots of him alone and use them to blackmail him right back."

"What makes you think Malfoy will use his free section to do anything illegal? Just because he would be alone in the Slytherin Dungeon..."

"Not illegal, embarrassing. For Malfoy, really embarrassing. Did you notice anything on his robes that night?" Hermione continued without pausing to let Ginny answer. "There was a little red thread on the hem of his robe. I saw it when I was getting up. It was exactly the same colour as Harry's missing sweater." Hermione paused then, as if that explained everything, and gave Ginny the triumphant, know-it-all look she had seen so many times before.

"You think that Malfoy stole Harry's red sweater to curse him?" Ginny asked, "but why would he do something as obviously traceable as a Personal Object Hex, and why would he need the passwords to the Tower to cast it?"

"Ginny," Hermione explained, "Harry's sweater has been missing for months. If Malfoy were going to hex it he would have done that months ago." She paused. "What were his conditions for giving you the powder's ingredients?"

"He wanted to know the exact time and place where I would use the powder. He said he just wanted to see the look on Harry's face. I figured maybe he thought being in love with a Weasley was punishment enough."

"The look on Harry's face?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "He actually said that? Ginny, what would have happened if Malfoy had pushed you out of the way just as Harry opened his eyes?"

"I suppose Harry would have fallen for Malfoy..."

Hermione nodded, "and you would have been expelled for using dark magic, and Harry would have had to have sex with Malfoy three times to break the spell or be in love with him forever."

"But why would Malfoy want to cast a love spell on Harry?"

"Because he already loves Harry!"

Ginny's eyes opened incredulously, but Hermione kept talking, nodding her head as if she were explaining some difficult Arithmancy equation.

"The reason that he stole Harry's sweater but didn't hex it is that he loves Harry. His plan was quite clever, actually. He gets to have Harry, you take the fall for the spell, and his fellow Slytherins never need to know that he has any feelings for Harry besides hate as he can blame it all on the powder. Even if you told people what he did, at that point who would believe you?"

"He watched us together," Ginny said, creasing her brows. "Why would he do that if he were queer?"

"He watched us together," Hermione repeated, "and he was disgusted. He could have asked us for anything, but he asked us for the Tower passwords, and then he walked away. From two naked girls."

Ginny's head spun towards Hermione. "Oh my God he IS queer!" she exclaimed.

"Who's queer?" came a sniffle from the stall.

"Stay out of this, Myrtle," said Hermione.

Ginny felt like she had lost her balance. She had no trouble thinking of Draco liking boys; in fact it sort of suited him, as if he had clicked into place in some puzzle in her mind. What was hard to believe was that he could be in love with Harry, that he could be in love with anyone. The only emotions she could recall having seen on Malfoy's face were pride, fury and indifference.

There had been only one time when she had seen him look differently. It was after a Quidditch match in which he and Harry had been both been injured. She had gone to visit Harry in the infirmary but they were both still under sleeping spells. Against the white pillow Malfoy's hair had seemed yellow instead of white and his cheeks were pink instead of sallow. She realized then it was only the Slytherin colours which made his complexion look yellow and his hair seem silver. His short eyelashes and the faint stubble on his cheeks were almost gold. He looked serene in his sleep, like a boy angel from an old painting. Ginny had paused as long as she could to look at him and decided that, under very different circumstances, her hated enemy could have been quite beautiful.

She wondered if he had been in love with Harry even then. Ginny realized that Hermione had been talking for some time and had just asked her a question.

"What?"

"Does the camera have film in it?"

"Yes, and Colin showed me how it works. How are we going to get the Invisibility cloak?"

"I've already got it. We'll meet here at four o'clock."

They kissed until the first chimes summoned them to lecture, and Ginny ran to her classroom with the camera in her bookbag.

\---

The Invisibility cloak did not, Hermione thought, make you feel invisible. It wasn't like a potion or a spell where even you couldn't see yourself. You saw yourself perfectly well and you could also see the cloak. Its swaying folds made the rest of the world seem under water, as if they were the ones who were less than fully visible. Malfoy was only a few steps ahead of them. Hermione could hear herself breathing and felt exposed. Ginny was pressed against her, huddled under the cloak shuffling forward and trying not to step on her feet.

They stood as close to Malfoy as they could manage when the portrait hole opened and followed him in. Hermione had never seen the interior of the Slytherin dungeon and was surprised by how comfortable it was. Something called a dungeon made her think of a place with a dank, cold atmosphere, uncomfortably furnished and depressingly decorated with chains. Now that she looked, she could see that it had once been a working dungeon. The iron rings set into the wall looked strong enough to hold a troll and there were cracks in the plaster around the windows where bars had been removed. The windows themselves seemed to look out into green flickering depths and Hermione wondered if they were far enough below Hogwarts to be under the lake. The enormous fireplace was large enough for Hermione to stand upright and had racks of pokers next to it, but the furnishings were opulent.

The couches were leather. The tables and shelves were polished dark wood. There were rows of crystal goblets in a locked cabinet and a decanter of what looked like brandy.

They followed Malfoy down yet another portrait hole with its own password.

Typical, thought Hermione. Only Slytherin would have password locked rooms inside its dormitory. The spiral staircase Malfoy descended was built for one person and Hermione and Ginny were forced to press together and step down one stair at a time. It slowed them down and Malfoy was far ahead of them in reaching the bottom. Fortunately there was no third password. At the bottom of the stairs there was a single room. It had no windows but the ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky outside. The illusion wasn't as detailed or realistic as the one in the Great Hall, but real sunlight still seemed to filter down through the clouds and it felt like the bedroom was outdoors. A Prefect's room.

Hermione had declined to have one set up for herself when she became a Prefect, since she studied mostly in the library and only really used her room to sleep, so she had offered the room to her housemates as a games room and now she could not cross it without stepping on irate chess pieces or sharp four-sided dice.

Malfoy had made no such sacrifices. The bed was actually more queen sized than twin and most of the furnishings seemed to have been sent from home. An enormously long table had been converted into a desk and was covered in letters, scrolls, and leather bound books, some of which Hermione recognised as library books and at least one of which was long overdue as she had been waiting for it for over a month. For someone who used that much Stayput and Sleekeazy on his hair, Malfoy's desk was surprisingly messy. She supposed he must have told the house elves not to touch it and then never tidied up himself.

His racing broom was on its hooks on the wall with the kit and his gear folded on a trunk beneath it. There were wizarding photographs in frames around the room, full of many blond people smiling their familiar Malfoy half-a-smile and posing for the camera. The largest photo was of his family standing in front of a fireplace in what she assumed was Malfoy Manor from the Malfoy crest carved into the wall over the mantel.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stood on either side of Draco, standing so straight it almost looked like it hurt. His father's hand was on his shoulder. He was not smiling and it seemed like the hand, a gesture of pride, was holding him to the spot.

The largest thing in the room was the bed. Its hangings were green and silver of course and a green silk bell pull hung next to it, but it had the whitest, fluffiest feather duvet Hermione had ever seen. The duvet cover was monogrammed in white stitching and had matching monogrammed pillow covers for the feather pillows.

At the moment Malfoy was reaching into the top drawer of a wardrobe next to the bed for something, which turned out to be Harry's red sweater. It was the only red thing in the room and looked almost as if it had been imported from a foreign country. It was worn around the cuffs and had grass stains on both sides. Malfoy pulled a copy of Quidditch magazine off his desk and threw it onto the bed. He pulled his vest off over his head and hung it on the back of a chair.

Watching Malfoy lift his vest off with his back to her, Hermione couldn't help noticing that his shoulders, although narrower than most boys', were still broader than any girls', and the compact and slender v of his waist and hips were such that she wasn't sorry when the shirt and tie followed.

Ginny's face was pressed into Hermione's neck and she turned to place her lips to Hermione's ear.

"Is it supposed to be this warm under an Invisibility cloak?" she whispered, taking Hermione's earlobe gently between her teeth. Suddenly Hermione was afraid. They could be expelled just for being here and Ginny was treating it like some kind of game. She put a hand in Ginny's hair and pulled her head away. Glancing at Ginny, she told her no with a look, but she could see her own reflection in Ginny's eyes, flushed and sweating. They put their faces side by side and watched Malfoy. Hermione put her arms around Ginny's waist to hold her there and felt her breathing.

Malfoy kicked off his shoes and lay on his side in only his grey wool trousers and darker grey socks. Flipping to the back of the magazine, he took the red sweater, held it to his face and inhaled deeply.

From where they were, near the door, Hermione could see that the photo on the back page was Harry and Malfoy, diving for the snitch, with the caption "Harry Potter, What a Save! Boy Hero Set to Take Hogwarts Cup Again." Malfoy watched the photo for a long time, as the two figures spun and dodged across the page. He ran his hand over Harry's image and it turned and waved at him, smiling. The sunlight from the enchanted ceiling fell on Malfoy's pale shoulders and Hermione noticed for the first time the light blond hair on his chest and the line of gold as it ran down under the waistband of the grey trousers.

He took his trousers down around his hips and Hermione had to suppress a giggle. She had seen pictures of male anatomy in the anatomy textbooks but this was the first time she had seen an actual boy naked. Compared to Ginny's smooth curves and hidden places his body seemed awkward and almost silly yet somehow managed to be intriguing and dangerous in a way that Ginny had never been.

The way he touched himself started out similarly to what she had experienced but soon became startlingly different both because it was so fast and because it was so rough. It looked like it should hurt, Hermione thought. If Ginny had ever touched her like that she would have been screaming in pain but Malfoy seemed soothed by it.

His posture relaxed, his eyes closed and fluttered open glancing at the picture of Harry, who was staring at the snitch with one arm outstretched and an intense look on his face. The more she watched him the harder Hermione had to try not to laugh. There was so little variation in his movements. It was less like a caress and more like a metronome, a single mechanical action performed at a single speed with a force that was almost violent and a desperate urgency which made Hermione think that if Malfoy were not so bigoted she could have liked him. She certainly preferred this Malfoy, the desperate silly one whose darkest secret was that he didn't hate Harry, to the snobby, popular, and confidently cruel person who thought nothing of getting Ginny expelled and practising dark magic on the object of his affection. Still, she had to admit that he was beautiful to watch.

She was reminded of once in Potions class, after they had made a particularly dangerous concoction, when Professor Snape had given them Scouring Potion to clean their cauldrons. The Scouring Potion itself was clear and innocuous until you added water to it and said a spell whereupon it became froth so acidic that it sizzled against the iron as it burned it clean. If having Ginny under the cloak with her were like the scouring potion in the cauldron, an unspoken but understood potential for release, then the pictures of Harry were the water, cool and ordinary yet catalytic for the itching heat which was making Ginny squirm and bite her lower lip, and Malfoy was the spell that set it all off.

She hated him and he was impossible to look away from. He loved Harry and she couldn't decide if that were an unforgivable sin which was exactly the way things should be or a miracle which should never have been allowed. She became aware of a soft rhythmic rustling next to her and realized Ginny was touching herself. The heat of Ginny's body made the scent of her skin intensify and Hermione felt the now familiar pleasant dizziness and weakness in her own body and knew that she wouldn't need to use her hands, the situation was enough.

Ginny leaned against her and she felt something bang against her leg. The camera. With a sudden embarrassment she remembered the reason they had come down here in the first place. Taking the camera to the edge of the cloak she pressed the button. There was an audible click. She advanced the film and clicked again. Malfoy paused. He turned his head in their direction. She held the camera very still.

"Baron, you have exactly two seconds to remove your chain-rattling perverted apparition from my chambers or I will find a way to make you feel pain regardless of your lack of corporeality. One!" He listened for a long dreadful moment.

Ginny bit Hermione's shoulder through the cloth and Hermione bit her own tongue to keep from laughing. She didn't blame the Bloody Baron one bit for haunting Malfoy's bedchamber.

Having decided that he was alone again, Malfoy turned over onto his back with the feather pillow behind him and his eyes closed and resumed his rhythm. His eyes flickered under thin lids as if he were dreaming and his breath came in uneven gasps although he never moaned or cried out as she and Ginny did. Instead he dug his heels into the duvet and pressed his hips forward until he was almost curving off the bed, as if he were suppressing the sounds so far down that they expressed themselves through his hips and heels. Every limb of his body was rigid except for his hand, which was moving almost faster than Hermione could see and at the edge of each soft exhalation was a faint consonance. Hermione thought at first that he couldn't breathe, and then saw suddenly and clearly that it was a sound, a letter, which ended in abruptly each time. This was Malfoy not saying Harry's name.

Tears were sliding down Hermione's cheeks and she couldn't tell if they were from sympathy or mirth. When Malfoy held his breath he took the hem of the red sweater and held it carefully away at the top of his chest, tipping his head forward until he was almost kissing the fabric and revealing the trail of blond hair again over clenched stomach muscles as he convulsed silently. The metal of the camera was cold and slippery in Hermione's hand. She heard a sudden silence, the absence of a sound she had not been paying attention to and knew that Ginny had stopped. She felt something inside her which had been holding on let go, as if she had somehow shared Malfoy's experience from across the room and could now breathe again.

Malfoy lay on the bed as his breathing slowed. A single strand of hair had come unglued and was plastered to his forehead with sweat. He let go of the sweater and pulled his wand out of his pocket, did one cleaning spell which not only tidied up but also put crisp creases in the pleats of his trousers, sat shirtless on the edge of the bed and turned the red sweater over in his hands. He tucked the strand of hair back into place, put the sweater away and dressed.

He looked oddly untouched to Hermione with his clothes back on, surreally exactly as he had looked before. He was a known quantity with clothes on, a jerk who hated her because she was Muggleborn and hated Ginny for being a Weasley and who was not above getting them expelled to trick Harry into having sex with him against his will. Still, she knew she could not follow him up the stairs because her legs had not stopped shaking. She watched the back of his head disappear up the spiral steps and heard the portrait close behind him.

As soon as the portrait closed Ginny's mouth was on hers. They fell to the floor and as the Invisibility Cloak fell off them everything suddenly became a brighter colour. She knew she had hit the stone floor fairly hard and would have a bruise later but even that felt good to her in that moment. She wanted to tell Ginny not to do this as her fear of being discovered made her heart beat as if it were going to jump out of her chest, but Ginny was kissing her and it was too much. Everything she had just seen spun around in her mind, being in the Slytherin Dungeons and Malfoy not saying Harry's name and Ginny's warm lips opening to french kiss her and on top of it all she couldn't help thinking about Harry. Did he ever do to himself what she had just seen Malfoy do, and whose name did he try not to say when he did? Something had to stop Ginny, she thought, before they were discovered and what would Harry say?

In the distance the chimes sounded. Thank God, Hermione thought, I'm late for class. She pulled away from Ginny, helping her up with both hands. Ginny threw the Invisibility cloak over them as they went up the stairs.

\-----

Malfoy was waiting for them in the Charms Classroom that afternoon. "So, Ladies," said Malfoy confidently. He paused to give them a look that said they were definitely not ladies. "Have you considered my generous offer?" Malfoy tucked around the lapels of the tailored cloak, smoothing them. He had hands which were incongruously large on his slender wrists. "A small boy with large hands," thought Hermione, and a smile began to form at the corners of her mouth. "He could have been the greatest Seeker Hogwarts had seen in a hundred years, if it hadn't been for Harry."

"We have decided," she said, raising her chin and managing to look down her nose at Malfoy despite her lack of stature, "that if you do not agree to leave us alone and keep quiet, then we will give this to the press." She held out the photograph. Malfoy snatched the photograph out of her hands.

"Keep it!" Ginny shouted, her eyes sparkling, "We have plenty of copies. Skeeter will have kittens if she discovers you're in love with Harry!"

Malfoy turned bright red. His complexion was so fair that the blush was visible all the way up into the part of his perfectly combed hair. "Love?" he said sarcastically. "Is that what you think I was thinking about? I could have been thinking of anything, Weasley."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Ginny sweetly. "I guess you weren't fantasizing about having sex with Harry...you were fantasizing about being Harry!"

By this time Hermione was shaking with barely suppressed laughter, but Malfoy had recovered his composure and was staring calmly back at them.

"Or maybe," he said softly "I was fantasizing about Potter being dead, and I was doing the dance of effortless superiority on his freshly planted grave."

"Oh is that what you were doing?" Hermione asked sharply.

"I had better not ever see those pictures again, or you can be certain I will make your lives every bit as awful as mine." With this, Malfoy looked daggers at both girls, turned on his polished heel and strode out of the classroom.

The moment he was gone they collapsed in fits of laughter. All of the tears of pity and mockery Hermione could not shed in the dungeon poured out of her. She couldn't stop them. She could tell Ginny couldn't stop them either and they were both on the floor, on their backs, helpless with laughter. As the giggling gave way to sighs Ginny reached over her head and took Hermione's hand.

"You were brilliant," said Hermione.

"No, you were brilliant, you thought of it," Ginny replied.

Hermione took the red thread out of her pocket and kissed it. Ginny rolled over and put her arm across Hermione, kissing her gently on the temple. Their cheeks were flushed from laughter and there were tears at the corners of their eyes. The remnant of the morning's fire glowing in the grate made the room warm and the wooden desks smelled of lemon polish potion.

"Wait," said Hermione. She drew her wand, crossing the room and opening all of the cupboards and closets. Ginny sat on the edge of one of the desks, crossing her legs and loosening the red and gold tie at her throat.

"So, Hermione, do you declare this room snake-free?" she asked, smiling.

Hermione came and stood in front of the desk, between Ginny's dangling legs.

"It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you."

Ginny put her hands under Hermione's chin, drawing her face in to kiss her. Hermione put her hands on Ginny's knees above the grey knee socks and slowly ran them up Ginny's thighs towards her hips, pushing the grey pleated skirt up in folds over Ginny's lap. They kissed with their eyes closed and without urgency. Ginny held Hermione's hair back from her face with both hands and Hermione trailed her fingertips back and forth across Ginny's inner thigh, listening to the soft sounds she made. Ginny pulled Hermione towards her, arching her back and sucking gently on Hermione's lower lip. Hermione felt her knees buckle and pulled away.

"Hermione, please," Ginny whispered. "I know it will end the spell. I don't care. I want it so badly." Hermione looked away at the floor with a small smile. Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"I, er," said Hermione, "I have a request."

"What is it?" asked Ginny, bringing her lips to Hermione's ear and whispering. Hermione brought her head forward until their cheeks touched, one pale and one rosy with light brown freckles, and whispered her request back to Ginny. Ginny grinned.

"Let's," she said, pushing herself off the edge of the desk. She took Hermione's hand and led her on still shaky knees out of the classroom.

The common room was deserted when they arrived, as were the stairs and the boy's dorm. Ulrich the Upright was asleep in his portrait. Everyone was still out at Hogsmeade, although it was off limits, or playing in the games room. Hermione recalled that this was the third time she had snuck into a boy's dorm. Not much of a Prefect, am I, she thought. She found herself tiptoeing although the Tower was mostly deserted. Ginny seemed accustomed to trespassing in boy's rooms. She went over to Harry's trunk and threw it open. She pulled the Quidditch gear on over her uniform and jumped on the bed. She picked up Harry's pillow and threw it at Hermione, who caught it and brought it over to the bed, placing it carefully back against the headboard.

"Perhaps this isn't such a great idea," Hermione said.

"Nonsense, it's brilliant!" said Ginny, bouncing down next to Hermione and deftly pinning her hands behind her on the pillow. "A bed," said Ginny, "an actual bed, is actually bloody brilliant." She kissed Hermione, crawling over her and trapping her in the centre of the bed. Harry's leather Quidditch gloves were soft against Hermione's wrists and Ginny's red hair fell down around her face. The knee guards made deep indentations in the mattress on either side of her. Hermione put her hands under Ginny's skirt, feeling the soft skin above the knee guards. Ginny closed her eyes and slid down until Hermione could embrace her and they lay on their sides with one of Ginny's legs over Hermione's hip, kissing.

They had never been in a bed before and Hermione had to admit, once they were in it, that it was bloody brilliant. She never wanted to get out of bed, only to stay there with Ginny in her arms forever. There was only one thing which could make it more perfect. She began taking off her clothes.

She loosened her tie and pulled tie, shirt and sweater off together, leaving only her bra. Then she kicked off her shoes and undid her skirt, wiggling out of it as Ginny watched. When Hermione was naked and her clothes were cast haphazardly around the floor between Harry and Ron's beds, Ginny tossed Harry's Quidditch gear back into his trunk and stripped as well, standing naked on the bed above Hermione as she laughed. They got under the covers, and that was even better. Hermione felt warm and safe. Harry's pillows did smell like Harry and she wanted to breathe it in forever.

As they kissed she felt Ginny's hands sliding over her and was glad that she had had the courage to ask for this. It felt natural to be next to Ginny, as if they had always been together, an intimate and friendly feeling made stronger by the similarities between their bodies. When she had been touching herself in the dark, it could have been Ginny, different but familiar, a second self which she could hold in her arms.

Ginny's hands were confident, as if they knew her secrets and did not need to ask her permission. Hermione reached across from her and took Ginny's body in her own hands so that they were moving together. The sheets were almost over their heads and Hermione could hear both of them breathing. Ginny's breath smelled like warm milk and mixed sweetly with the floral scent of her shampoo and Harry's pillows. When she looked up, Ginny's face was across from her but when she closed her eyes it was Harry. Her hands were his hands, confidently stroking her and her breath, loud under the sheets, was his breath. She could feel herself getting closer to the end and she could tell by Ginny's responses to her and the strength with which she kissed that she would soon follow.

A note of pain began to build in her as she tried to slow the feeling down. She didn't want to think about going back to class, about getting dressed, and least of all about the way she would feel when the spell was gone, but the spell seemed to have taken on a life of its own. It was like a wind which swept them up together and carried them over some imaginary edge like scraps of paper. She couldn't have stopped if she had to. Images flashed through her mind. Ginny, covered in white powder. Ginny, biting her lower lip in thought. Ginny at the top of the stairs waiting for her to say I love you. Draco in his bedroom with pictures of Harry. Harry in his red sweater. Harry in his Quidditch gear coming through the portrait with his eyes bright from practice and his hair stuck to his face with perspiration. Then the images went away and there was no room, no bed, no light and finally no Hermione. No thought to hold onto as the wind carried her over its edge and she lay in Ginny's arms in Harry's bed.

She suddenly felt very sleepy. They were breathing hard and the covers were stuck to Hermione's skin, but she was having trouble staying awake. She looked across the pillow from her and saw that Ginny's eyes were already closed. It made no sense, for her to be sleepy, she thought. It was the middle of the afternoon. It must be the spell, Hermione realized as she struggled to keep her eyes open. It must have been intended to make both participants fall asleep so that one could crawl away in the morning while the other slept and neither had to bear the uncomfortable silence which could ensue after the spell wore off. If only the Spellbook had mentioned this, she thought, but then not everything about spells that old was written down in the books.

"Ginny! Wake up!"

"Mmmph.." said Ginny.

"Ginny, we can't go to sleep here," Hermione said, but her eyes were already shut again.

"Five more minutes," insisted Ginny, and that was the last Hermione heard before she was fast asleep.

\---

"Ssh," Harry whispered to Ron, bumping into him as they crossed the portrait hole. "Stop bumping into me, Ron."

"I dent!" said Ron, a bit loudly. "I did-ent," he enunciated. "You bumped into me." They laughed, leaning on each other and wheezing in an attempt to laugh and whisper at the same time.

"This is the last, the last," Harry said, gasping for breath, "last time I sneak out of school to go get drunk at The Three Broomsticks with you."

"Why?" asked Ron, leaning on Harry's shoulder and looking upset.

"Because we do things when we're drunk, Ron. Stupid things. Like that business with Rosmerta's shoes and the chandelier."

"Well, yeah," said Ron, "but on the other hand, we now know that Rosmerta wears thong knickers."

"I can just see the headlines," said Harry, still worrying "Harry Potter expelled for drunkenness."

"Oh no!" Ron laughed. "You'll be the boy who couldn't make a living."

"Shhh! If Hermione is studying upstairs and she finds us here, we'll catch it," insisted Harry. Ron bit his lower lip. They crept cautiously up the stairs to the seventh year boy's dorm and opened the door.

There was a moment of silence.

Ron's bookbag clattered to the ground. "Aaaugh!" shouted Ron, clapping his hands over his eyes. Hermione and Ginny woke up. They hastily pulled Harry's bedspread with the Gryffindor crest on it up to their necks and huddled beneath it, faces flushed and hair tousled.

"I can explain," said Hermione. Ginny looked at Ron, his hands still over his eyes, made a small squeaky noise and put the bedspread over her face. "Malfoy cursed us," said Hermione.

"Yes, Malfoy cursed us!" squeaked Ginny from under the blanket.

"The only way to lift the curse was... to be in a boy's bed," Hermione said with only a slight hesitation.

"Naked?" asked Ron.

"Yes," said Hermione emphatically. "He meant for it to be his bed, but Ginny told him to sod off." She managed a single glance at Harry. His mouth was partly open and his eyes were almost as large as his spectacles. It made him look very young. She looked away, feeling deeply guilty for lying to him and for being in his bed without his permission.

"Right," said Ron. He took a deep breath and sighed. For a moment Hermione thought he didn't believe a word of it. Then he said "I'm off to kill Malfoy, then," quite matter of factly, turned and started toward the door.

"Wait!" both girls cried at once.

"That's what he wants you to do," said Hermione. "He's trying to get you and Harry in trouble."

Ron threw his hands in the air without turning around. "What do I do then?" he asked.

"Um, could you just, turn around so we can get dressed?" Ginny asked timidly, poking her head out from behind the bedspread. Harry turned around.

Hermione felt Ginny's eyes on her as she dressed but she didn't return the look. She felt frozen, as if she were dressing very slowly and it was an effort to move her limbs. The knot that had been in her stomach since the first day of the spell was rising into her throat and she felt queasy. She was lying to Harry. What if he didn't believe her? It felt like a bad dream.

She made Harry's bed quickly and heard Ginny say "You can turn back around now." Harry's eyes were still wide with surprise but his mouth had closed. Ron opened two of his fingers and peeked through them. Finding them dressed, he removed his hands from his eyes and crossed them over his chest defensively. Harry seemed to find his voice.

"You were in my bed," he said simply. "Both of you. You were..." Words failed him.

"Harry, I'm really very sorry we did that," said Hermione.

"Well," said Harry, "that's all right."

Hermione felt like crying from relief. "Oh, thank you for being so understanding!" she exclaimed. Harry fidgeted with his glasses, adjusting them. There was an awkward pause.

"Fine, then!" Ginny shouted suddenly and ran out of the room.

"I think you embarrassed her, Ron," said Harry. "I embarrassed HER?" Ron protested, sitting down on Harry's trunk and folding his arms again.

"It's not your fault, Ron," said Hermione, "we should have told you."

Ron looked up, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "Just tell me you got even with Malfoy."

"Oh, don't worry," said Hermione, "we did."

"What did you do?" asked Ron.

Hermione thought of the picture of Malfoy, in Harry's sweater and no trousers, and smiled. "Let's just say he'll never feel entirely safe again."

"Strong work, Hermione," said Harry and for a moment she almost felt sorry for Malfoy. "How?"

"I'd rather not talk about it if you don't mind," said Hermione. "Can't we just go off to study? I've had, er, quite a day."

Harry and Ron exchanged curious looks. "Sure," said Harry. They walked to the door together.

"So," said Harry casually as he held open the door for her, "How much did you and Ginny, I mean, how far did you..."

"Shut up Harry," wailed Ron.

It wasn't until the portrait had closed behind them that Ginny crept out of from behind one of the wingback chairs. She sat on the couch with a red pillow clutched to her chest and shook with sobs. At first the noises she made were nearly inhuman, high keening sounds like the ones the owls made in their cages at sundown. Slowly she calmed down until she was able to let go of the pillow, sniffling.

She reached into her pocket and withdrew the small piece of paper, carefully folded into a square. Her note, the one where Hermione had said that she loved her. She stood and walked over to the fireplace. For a moment she held it out towards the flame, and then she pulled her hand back. Turning the little square over to be sure it had not burnt, Ginny climbed the stairs to her bed. It felt strange for the spell to be over, like walking after getting off a broom, Ginny thought. It seemed she was walking slowly and heavily.

There was an empty place in her chest where the love had been just minutes ago and she felt cold inside. A sudden feeling of familiarity crept over her as she sat on her bed with the note. This was how she had felt when she woke up on the wet stone floor with Harry bending over her and realized that Tom was gone. She remembered what McGonagall had told her about enchantments being lesser forms of Imperius and for the first time felt genuinely ashamed of having made the powder. She had done to a lesser degree with Hermione what Tom had done with her through the diary, and she would have done it to Harry if the plan had worked.

The shame burned her face and she sat down on the floor by her bed, feeling every breath and wishing she could forget her own life. The touch of Hermione's lips, the softness of her breasts, their legs tangled together, Hermione's secret smile, these were things which would never happen to her again. Ginny tried to picture herself kissing Hermione now but the images kept getting mixed up in her head with daydreams she had about Harry, or Tom, one dark head becoming another, brown eyes turning green. None of those eyes had ever returned quite the same look she had given them. Ginny took a deep breath and tried to cry, but nothing more would come.

She reached under her bed and withdrew a flat wooden box. "Pickled toads," Ginny said to the box, and it opened. Inside were a photo of Harry with his arm around her shoulders at the World Quidditch Championships the previous year and a folded piece of blank paper with one torn edge and a watermark reading "Vauxhall Books". Ginny placed the note in the box and quietly engaged the lock.

The End


End file.
